Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost
September 16, 2007
Jeremiah 4:11-12; 22-28
Psalm 14
1 Timothy 1:12-17
Luke 15:1-10
Well, what a revolting development the Pharisees have on their hands in today’s Gospel. Over the last few Sundays we have encountered Jesus primarily with Pharisees, at meal or on the road. But more and more we have witnessed other kinds of people wanting to be with Jesus. Today the Pharisees give us our first description of them. With quite a bit of grumbling to go along with it. Pharisees are beginning to notice tax collectors and other sinners coming to hear Jesus preach, and they don’t like it one bit. They don’t like it because Pharisees regard Jesus to be worthy of only their company. After all, they are learned men and very religious. They are morally upright and they keep all their laws. To the crowds Jesus seems to be a mere curiosity, but to the Pharisees Jesus seems more like one of them. Misdirected, perhaps, in his religious viewpoints, but nevertheless worthy of their attention.
So what do these crowds of people want with someone like Jesus? To the Pharisees they are nothing but riff-raff, and Jesus should not be wasting his time with them. Even worse, there are people more evil and dangerous among the riff-raff. The Pharisees identify them as tax collectors and other sinners. And while Pharisees might roll their eyes at the riff-raff who follow Jesus, they will put up with them. But tax collectors and other sinners. This is something to grumble over, loud enough so Jesus can hear them. The Pharisees want Jesus to know their displeasure; they want to remind him of the danger he faces of losing his reputation and credibility by associating with such people.
Look at him, they grumble. “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.” Now, I’m sure this indictment of Jesus does not seem so awful to us. In fact these grumblings seem more of an indictment of the Pharisees who are judging Jesus. But we have the advantage of knowing who Jesus is and why he welcomes tax collectors and sinners and eats with them. The Pharisees, however, are living by religious and social code which is meant to keep righteous people like them away from people like these. So the Pharisees don’t get it. They don’t get the fact that Jesus is trying to fracture the very religious and social codes they live by which indict Jesus with by their grumblings.
Still, we have to realize that what the Pharisees accuse Jesus of is pretty awful. Very awful. Perhaps even unforgivable. Because Jesus does more than allow riff-raff and tax collectors and other sinners to follow him. Jesus welcomes them into his presence—even more, he allows them to eat with him. These are serious violations of social protocol and religious law in Jesus’ world because welcoming strangers and guests in Jesus’ day is quite different from our understanding of welcome in our day. The Greek translation for the word “welcome” in today’s scripture means literally “to embrace.” So when Jesus welcomed tax payers and sinners, he was doing more than simply saying “hi” or waving to people, or motioning them to come near him. Jesus actually took them into his arms to greet them. And if this isn’t bad enough, Jesus then proceeds to share a meal with them. Again, it is difficult for us to understand how simply having a meal with such people can be so awful in the eyes of the Pharisees. But in ancient times the meal was the focal point of the day, and the people you invited to share that meal with you were honored guests. At meal you could count on the best conversation and social interaction of the day. To share a meal with others was the most intimate public act a person engaged in. So you were very careful about the people you invited into your life to share it with you.
This is why the Pharisees are grumbling. Jesus was openly and intentionally sharing his most intimate self in an embrace and at meal with social and religious outcasts. And the Pharisees understood the consequences of such behavior. Consequences which have been true for people in all ages. It is the consequence of being known by the company we keep. Even if it is possible not to become like the company we keep, we are likely to have the reputation for being like the company we keep. So, if Jesus continues to keep company with people who are socially and religiously unacceptable, the Pharisees will not want to be identified with him. It would surely diminish their own credibility and honor. You can hardly blame the Pharisees for fearing the consequences if they continue to associate with Jesus.
On the other hand, the Pharisees just don’t get what Jesus is doing. Jesus is not choosing to be like any of the company he keeps, including the Pharisees. And he cares little about what people say about him. The point is that Jesus has come into the world to embrace all people. He is the only hope and the only way riff-raff, tax collectors and other sinners, including Pharisees, have of turning their life toward God. Jesus cannot let the Pharisees get away with these grumblings. He must answer them. At the same time he must send a message of love and redemption to all who are gathered to receive his welcoming embrace that day. Rather than confront the Pharisees about their grumbling, Jesus responds to them by telling three parables—two of which we heard this morning. His purpose is to reveal his reasons for embracing riff-raff, and tax collectors and sinners, including Pharisees—and, oh yes, each of us, as well.
Both parables reveal much about us, but they also reveal much about God. Both parables make the same simple and profound point: When something of great value becomes lost to us, we will go to any extent to find it. And the same is true of God. In Jesus’ world, silver coins and flocks of sheep are two of the most valuable possessions a person can own. To a woman who manages all the affairs of her home, one silver coin represents a significant resource for caring for the needs of her family. For the shepherd, even the loss of one sheep in a herd of 99 represents a serious loss of sustainable income. Such loss not only represents the quantity of life sustaining resources, it represents the quality of life itself. One coin matters. So does one sheep. And so the woman who loses her coin makes finding it the focus of her life. The shepherd who has lost track of one straying sheep will risk his remaining sheep to fine him. And what joy they have in finding what was lost. You and I have known such joy in finding treasures we have lost. And our joy can only begin to compare with God’s joy in finding the greater treasure he has lost in Jesus’ parable.
God is continually seeking his lost treasure. And his lost treasure is us. The problem is that like the coin and like the sheep, we often don’t even know we have become lost. We don’t even realize, or care, what a treasure we are to God. But we are. God made us to be a treasure; a treasure to ourselves, a treasure to others and a treasure to God. And any time we stray hide or stray from those who treasure us, we can be certain they will seek us until we are found, and they will restore us as the treasure we are to them. If you have ever lost a person you treasure to an addiction, if you have ever lost someone you care deeply about to people, places or things which have lured him or her away from you, if you have ever lost one you love to their own bad choices, then you undoubtedly know what it feels like to be the woman and the shepherd in this parable. But you can only begin to know what God feels like when he loses one of us. If you have ever been lost yourself, you might know what it feels like to be found and restored to the life you were meant to live and the people you were meant to live it with. Many of us worshiping in churches like these this morning have our own story of being lost, and by the grace of God being found by God again. Like the sheep we strayed from the ones who loved us, and we were doing all right out there in the world. Until that day we were found by the One who was seeking us. Our God came to us in the form of a stranger or a friend we didn’t know we had. Our God came to us in a time of trouble or danger. Our God came to us in a moment of quiet and reflection, or in the sound of a symphony orchestra or through character in a book or a drama. Our God came to us in the beauty of nature or perhaps in its fury. Whatever form God took to reveal himself to us, we realized how lost we were. And how glad we were to be found.
One of my favorite writers, Anne Lamotte, tells her own story about being lost and found in a biography she wrote about it. One Sunday morning Anne woke up in a daze. She stumbled from her bed, drunk and hung over from the alcohol and drugs which were consuming her body and mind and soul. She couldn’t find her cigarettes and she couldn’t remember if she had any left, so she threw on the nearest clothing she could find and made her way out the door onto the street to find a drug store. Anne didn’t remember it was Sunday. The city streets were eerily quiet, except for a vague sound of music emanating from a building up ahead. As she drew nearer she realized it was the choir and congregation of a church whose doors were open wide to the city streets. Anne remembered that she hadn’t been to church in years, but the hymn sounded familiar to her. She stopped to listen, and to her surprise she walked up the few steps which led her into the nave where she proceeded to collapse on a pew.
After worship, people greeted Anne and invited her to coffee hour. She could not remember the last time she had eaten anything, so she accepted their invitation. It was only after she began to eat that she realized how hungry she was. People were greeting her warmly, and she wondered why. They seemed interested in her, but again, she couldn’t imagine why. She panicked when she couldn’t think of anything to say about herself. That is when the lights began to shine on the dark places of her lost life. In that moment the light found her and showed her the Anne Lamott she once knew herself to be. These people were shining the light on the real Anne, the Anne God made her to be. The Anne God treasured. The Anne who would begin the long and painful journey which would restore to her to her rightful mind and body and soul, and to her rightful place in community. Needless to say, Anne Lamotte went back to church again, that next Sunday. And many other churches as her life moved forward. The joy and wonder she experienced in finding herself in them was like nothing she had ever experienced. You might be interested to know that Anne eventually found herself in the Episcopal Church which she believed gave her the most space to grow into the person God made yearned for her to become. Anne experienced the most amazing grace that comes to one who is found by God. Amazing Grace.
Amazing Grace is what John Newton, the captain of an 18th century British slave ship, experienced the day he realized how lost he had become in the evil business of slave trading. Newton found God in the midst of a violent storm on the high seas which threatened his vessel, his cargo of slaves and his life. Transformed by the experience, Newton went on to write one of the most beautiful and profound hymn texts in our hymnal. The words of the hymn describe what it is like to be found by a God who will not give up on us. Like the woman who did not give up on the coin, and the shepherd who did not give up on the sheep. Like Jesus who will not give up on the riff-raff, or tax collectors, or other sinners, like the Pharisees, or any one of us. It is no wonder John Newton’s hymn is so well known and so often sung by people like us in congregations like these. Because like Anne Lamott and John Newton we have our own stories of being lost and found, and we are given the opportunity to revisit our story and tell it to others every time we sing this hymn. Newton called his hymn Amazing Grace. I think you would agree; he called it right.